


Creep

by NoCoastPosts



Series: The Life In My Veins [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Break Up, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Heartache, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Heroin, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Armie Hammer, POV Timothée Chalamet, Past Relationship(s), Self-Harm, Tags May Change, The Author Regrets Everything, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 04:17:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19456177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoCoastPosts/pseuds/NoCoastPosts
Summary: “No. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to suddenly see me. You had years to see me, truly see me as I was. You convinced yourself that you knew best. Or maybe it was your shitty excuse because I simply wasn’t enough. You don’t get to play hero now. You don’t get to do anything.”Armie runs into Timmy at a cafe. It's not good. Set about six months before "Lua".





	Creep

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for self-harm, drug use, and heavy angst. Self-harm is depicted in the accompanying artwork. The tags will change a bit with each one-shot. Some tags are purposefully omitted to avoid spoilers. Please feel free to recommend any relevant tags.
> 
> Each new part features a song and incorporates song lyrics that relate to the series theme. This portion features [Creep](https://youtu.be/XFkzRNyygfk) by Radiohead. 
> 
> Any artwork or photography added is my own unless otherwise noted.
> 
> Find updates and other fic shenanigans on [my Tumblr](https://nocoastsposts.tumblr.com).

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182255151@N03/48185222221/in/dateposted-public/)

_**When you were here before / Couldn't look you in the eye / You're just like an angel / Your skin makes me cry** _

**Ricorda Cafe, August 2018**

From the first day they met, Timmy's quirks were so endearing to Armie. The slender brunette was always tucking away his untamed curls, chewing his bottom lip relentlessly, and pulling his knees up to his chest to curl up on the couch. 

Armie loved these little things when they were still together, but they weren’t the little things anymore. Timmy’s quirks were now the shadow of the monster that the boy tethered himself to. 

But it was ten months too late when Armie had this realization as he spotted Timmy in line at Ricorda. The dark circles and faded injection marks littering the boy’s arms spoke volumes. 

Armie began shaking at the realization that he didn’t need to look beyond a mirror to find the catalyst. 

* * *

_**I don't care if it hurts / I want to have control / I want a perfect body / I want a perfect soul** _

**June 2018**

Timmy was much more self-aware than anyone seemed to realize. He wasn’t naive about drugs and hated when everyone treated him as such. However, he was okay with being treated like a child if it meant he didn’t have to put the truth into words.

“ _You’ve lost so much weight, you look sick._ ”

“ _You’re not the person you used to be._ ”

“ _It’s destroying you, don’t you know that?_ ”

“ _That stuff will kill you one day._ ” 

It took everything for Timmy to bite his tongue and refrain from saying “ _Yes, that’s the entire point_.” in response. 

But doing so would only cause his friends and family to pressure him into revealing the reason behind it all. He didn’t even like acknowledging it to himself. So he kept silent during the yelling and crying and pleas.

The utter helplessness Timmy felt when he lost Armie was akin to drowning. The promises and plans and everything that Timmy believed to be true was ripped away. 

It poured over him all at once and he never really stood a chance.

He started out with pills. 

( _A safe bet, he told himself._ )

He slashed his skin with a razor.

( _An outlet for the pain, he reasoned._ )

But none of it was ever enough. He needed to hit the ultimate rock bottom. Timmy vowed to take command of his life by ruining himself before anything or anyone else could. 

Every time he picked up a syringe.

Every time he tied a tourniquet.

Every time he spent his last few dollars.

Timmy felt purified. 

He made these choices himself and accepted the consequences that came with them. He even welcomed them.

Destruction was a sure bet he could rely on. 

* * *

_**I want you to notice / When I'm not around / You're so fuckin' special / I wish I was special** _

**Ricorda Cafe, August 2018**

Armie kept his eyes trained on Timmy, but the tired-looking boy didn’t notice him or any of his surroundings. As he continued staring, Armie’s mind was flooded with questions. 

_How is it possible for him to be so thin? When was the last time he slept? Do his parents know? How long has it been going on?_

They kept on rolling in as he observed standing in the slow-moving line. _Was it really Tim standing there?_

Shaking like a leaf during a violent storm. 

Chewing on pale, chapped lips that were once the perfect cherry red.

Violently yanking at a strand of hair. 

These...quirks...made Armie certain it was him. He snapped out of his thoughts as Timmy stepped out of line and bolted toward the door. While Armie was lost in his own mind, the boy must have spotted him and left. 

Armie quickly went after him with absolutely no idea what to do or say. He just knew he had to do something. Anything. Help somehow. Fix him.

As soon as he heard Armie call his name, Timmy turned sharply around to see the man approaching with so much worry and regret etching his features. 

He clutched his paper coffee cup tightly and felt the flame of fury ignite in his stomach. The death grip and body tremors caused the scalding black liquid to leak out over his hand. Timmy didn’t notice.

Armie began to speak frantically as he willed his voice not to break. 

“ _Tim, what’s happened to you? I’m so worried about you. I can -_ “

Timmy sharply cut him off. He was an eerie mixture of burning anger and complete calm. He squared his shoulders and spoke through gritted teeth.

_“No. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to suddenly **see**_ _me. You had years to see me, truly see me as I was. You convinced yourself that_ **_you_ ** _knew best. Or maybe it was just a shitty excuse because I simply wasn’t enough. You don’t get to play hero now. You don’t get to_ **_do_ ** _anything_.”

He hurried away as Armie stood frozen on the spot for what seemed like hours. His mind screamed at his body to move, but the man was too shocked to listen.

Eventually, muscle memory kicked in and he walked home. He didn’t even manage to hang his keys before he was sobbing and retching on his knees in the bathroom.

_**Whatever makes you happy / Whatever you want** _

* * *

**The Beginning Of The End**

Timmy and Armie were so similar in certain ways - perhaps too similar. They both strived to please anyone and everyone around them. They also let insecurity get the best of them more often than not. Especially the older man. 

Armie told himself he was doing what was best for Timmy. His crippling fear of not being good enough was slowly poisoning their relationship. It didn’t happen all at once but festered over time.

_He’s too young to commit to a life together._

_I’m holding him back._

_He says he’s happy but how could he be?_

_Our backgrounds are so different._

_He can’t possibly love me the way I love him._

As time passed, Armie’s subconscious mind led to the ultimate decision. Each of his thoughts acted as a heavy brick, and eventually, the wall grew too tall. 

He spent months letting himself sink into his convictions. Timmy didn’t stand a chance against Armie’s resolve to “ _do what was best_ ”. 

Armie believed he made the right choice to set him free.

Timmy’s pleas fell on deaf ears.

He was anything but free.

If anything, his pain trapped him so much that it was only a matter of time until he sought out an escape from reality. 

The exact opposite of what Armie intended.

* * *

_**But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo / What the hell am I doing here? / I don't belong here.** _

**June 2018**

In the early months, Timmy hadn’t learned to fully quell his darkest thoughts. It was only when he was strung out and reveling in the silence that he found solace. His round-the-clock apathy wasn’t there quite yet.

He always wanted answers. It’s not like he would ever get them, but sometimes he dwelled in the bitterness. He was disgusted when he looked back on how lovesick he’d been. 

_Why did he ever, for a single moment, believe Armie was it for him?_

_Why didn’t he second-guess Armie instead of taking his every word as truth?_

_Why did he ignore that inner voice telling him he’d never be good enough?_

Timmy pulled himself together before his tears spilled over, and he stood up and sighed. Sinking into his misery wasn’t an option. He reasoned that things would never get better, so he might as well dive headfirst into destruction.

He dug into his kitchen drawer, gathered his supplies, and within minutes had a small smile on his face. 

There was no more noise in Timmy’s head. 

For now, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hate me I'm sorry! I had to listen to Kid Cudi while editing this so I wouldn't cry.
> 
> Find updates and other fic shenanigans on [my Tumblr](https://nocoastsposts.tumblr.com).


End file.
